


how to be an underdog (and avoid being a chew toy along the way)

by deadmeatdemon



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, New Yorkers, One Shot, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Spider-Man Interacting with New Yorkers, nypd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-02 06:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18805189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadmeatdemon/pseuds/deadmeatdemon
Summary: Spider-Man is injured in a fight with the Lizard, and a few ESU students take it upon themselves to help the skittish hero.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for New York/Spidey stuff ahaha
> 
> this peter is not mcu spidey (hes more of a younger ps4 peter maybe) so no stark suit or etc, but if you want to imagine him as holland spidey thats fine ofc!

 

 

Peter Parker sometimes wishes that his life was at least half as exciting as it is. After three years of having to wrangle crazy villains and sometimes _crazier_ superhero acquaintances, this prayer for some sense of normalcy was obnoxious in the way it reverberated in his head.

Screaming like someone desperate to save the life of another that was just out of reach.

Screeching like…

Peter leaped out of the way of a lashing tail.

Screeching like a spider-sense working overtime.

“Hey big, green, and handsome!” Spider-Man jeered from his position on a nearby building face. “I know this place sucks the life out of students, but can we deal with your anger in a more constructive way?”

He was met with a roar, the Lizard's sharp teeth flashed in warning at the spider.

“We could organize a demonstration,” a concrete planter was torn from its place and tossed in Peter’s direction, “Or is your anger more stress-related? There’s a floor on the library that brings these really cute dogs in for exam week and I think--” A chunk of sidewalk was hurled at his form, nearly clipping the back of his head. “Watch it!”

Spidey landed on the university sidewalk a distance away from the rampaging Dr. Connors, who was lashing his tail like an angry cat. Sparing a glance behind the transformed biology professor, Peter saw that the police line kept most of the lookie-loos contained behind a barrier of plastic shields.

If he didn’t know that the police were as prepared to shoot Spider-Man as they were the Lizard, he might’ve felt safe in knowing he had some form of back-up.

Spidey ducked under a pair of lunging claws, using the Lizard’s momentum to throw him up and over his shoulder. The creature hit the ground with a furious hiss and it’s limbs flailed as it scrambled to flip itself over and return the favor.

“ _Come on_ , Lizzy, it’s so late,” Spidey mock-complained, “can’t you go crawl back underneath the cozy heat rock you came from?”

He moved to dodge another lunge like a matador, but instead of doubling back on his spidery opponent, the Lizard continued its charge towards the police line. The formation broke rank at the sight of the hulking reptile barreling towards them.

Snapping into action, Peter launched a web at Dr. Connors as he leapt towards the soon-to-be-scene of disaster. The web caught the scaly leg of the creature, sending it stumbling forwards.

The stumble turned into a fall as a second web caught the opposite leg of the Lizard, and it flailed its arms out on instinct. A clawed limb went to swipe an officer that was ushering a frozen student away from the scene, a blow that would surely cleave the man’s arm off if Peter didn’t reach the crumbling police line in time.

Spidey shoved the officer out of the way, (with maybe a little too much force than necessary the Bugle would surely report tomorrow morning), leaving himself to be caught by the falling villain.

Spidey yelped as claws made neat rows down his back, and the Lizard’s jaw audibly snapped shut as his scaly head hit the ground.

He maneuvered himself in time to avoid major injury, but the blossoming pain made his vision white-out for a moment, allowing the downed Dr. Connors to recover.

Peter’s spidey-sense blared as he rolled out of the way of a clawed hand that went to pin him, vision once again becoming fuzzy as his back made contact with the pavement. Small pebbles made themselves home in his open wounds, and Peter’s hiss in pain rivaled the one emanating from the dangerous reptile before him.

A dodge and a duck under two more swipes, Peter was getting tired of this dance. He has a mean 8 AM lab in the morning for Pete’s sake!

“Dr. Connors, can we finish this audition for 'Worst Godzilla Reject' some other time?”

Another duck and roll, further aggravating Spidey’s wounds. He wished he wouldn’t keep forgetting about his back injury in his adrenaline-induced haze.

Spidey returned a few punches, his fists scuffing on rough scales and knocking a few razor-sharp teeth loose from the professor’s mouth. The overgrown reptile staggered a bit, a hand clutching at its maw.

Time to wrap this up.

Peter swept the legs out from under Dr. Connors, who slammed into the sidewalk with a indignant roar.

Before the beast could gather it's bearings, Peter began to wrap up the Lizard in his webs, attaching him to the pavement for the cops to collect in a nice, albeit sticky, package.

What he didn’t foresee, however, was the jaws of the Lizard craning upwards in one swift motion and chomped down on Spidey’s lower leg. A crippling scream from the spider-hero echoed around the university center, and Peter could feel the teeth dig in and tear flesh as both figures thrashed.

Leg still in a vice-like bite, Peter hit the ground ungracefully in order to kick at the mouth with his free leg. A few good hits and the jaws retreated from his form as fast as they descended. Spidey let out a strangled whimper as he scrambled out of striking distance.

The Lizard made it's equivalent of a pleased grin, the saliva in its mouth running pink with the hero's blood.

“For that, you jolly green asshole, you get extra webs,” He wheezed out in between pain-filled breaths. “They’re...They’re gonna wonder if they accidentally picked up the Stay-Puft marshmallow man instead of an ugly dinosaur.”

Hobbling carefully on his good leg, he proceeded to coat the Lizard in layer after layer of silk, taking care to wrap the jaws closed and mummify the head in a way that still allowed Dr. Connors to breathe. The beast hissed indignantly under his restraints.

Spidey let out a wheezy breath, the adrenaline already starting to leave his body. He balanced weakly on his good leg, testing the condition of his now mangled one. Yep, definitely can’t stand on it, but he felt no broken bones. Just a flesh wound. A really, _really_ painful flesh wound, but not one he couldn’t bounce back from.

Approaching footsteps warned him of the advancing officers, some of which still had their shields at the ready and eyeing both Spidey and the thoroughly-apprehended Lizard warily.

Peter placed his torn leg down on the ground while keeping his weight on the opposite. He wanted to avoid showing weakness around the NYPD, especially those officers that would spring at the idea of getting their handcuffs around an injured spider.

Keeping up his show of health, he launched into the air and away from the scene, giving the officers space to move in on the Lizard.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t get more than three buildings away when he decided to collapse in the courtyard of some darkened building, leaving blood spots on the empty basketball court that sat in the middle of the clearing. He inspected his wounds, finding that his lower left leg was bleeding at a faster rate than his back, which was expected due to how much more abuse it suffered in comparison.

He laid his head back on the cracked concrete with a sigh. “Ah… _great._ ”

He debated making the fifteen minute trip to his downtown apartment, but every swing had done nothing but put increasing pressure on his back wound, and looking back down at the steadily increasing puddle of his blood leaking from his leg he’s _really_ unsure if he could make it to his bed before he bled out from the strain.

Adrenaline fully out of his system, he let out a groan as he felt the true extent of the pain he was in. Spidey went to push himself off the ground, dark spots dancing in his periphery as he touched his mangled leg to the cold concrete.

Head swimming in pain, he numbly decided he would wait for his healing factor to take care of the serious gashes before he went anywhere to take care of the rest. Nothing he hasn’t done before, he reasoned. He’ll just walk over and take a power nap in the bushes until the teeth marks are gone and then go clean up the remaining cuts! Easy-peasy!

He placed his injured leg down to take a step, and promptly passed out.

 

* * *

 

 

Francine’s blood ran cold when she heard Spider-Man’s agonized screams.

From behind the wall of riot police, she saw that the brightly-colored vigilante was on the ground, kicking at the face of the beast that had nearly careened into her a minute ago in a desperate attempt to free his leg.

He reminded her of those animals on nature documentaries that had their paws caught in a bear trap, pulling and writhing at the restraint, usually making the injury worse. She wondered if Spider-Man had a way to treat the injuries he’s gotten over the three years he’s been around.

A gruff officer told her to back off when they noticed her on her tip-toes, trying to see Spidey’s condition.

“Shouldn’t you guy’s check and see if he’s okay?” she pressed.

The officers huffed a laugh. “He’ll be fine,” a female NYPD agent stated matter-of-factly.

Francine opened her mouth to argue with the officer, to tell him that they should call someone to check on the hero, when she saw his red and blue form swing away.

“See? If he’s okay enough to make jokes and swing away, he doesn’t need an ambulance,” the gruff officer from before pointed out. “Guy’s probably a regular Tony Stark under that get-up anyways; probably has his own medical team.”

Francine’s brows furrowed in doubt. Did they hear the same scream as she did a second ago?

Resolve hardened in her gut and she began to sprint in the direction the hero went.

 

 

 

Turns out the trick to finding Spider-Man is to follow the webs. Barely visible strands of silk hung from the walls, reminding her of those plastic Mardi Gras beads suspended in trees after the parade leaves, only if they were made of delicate gossamer.

Each strand was about twenty feet apart, however, which didn’t sit right with Francine. It probably meant that he taking it slow, maybe due to his injury, she pondered.

At the beckoning wave of silk, she took a right turn into a dark passageway in between two of ESU’s administrative buildings. It led to a hidden area of campus; an unkempt courtyard that dated back to when the administrative buildings were used as student housing.

The only reasons that made current students seek out this place was the isolation, the cute swing at one end of the clearing, and the basketball--

“Oh _fuck._ ”

Francine froze in place. In a crumpled pile at the edge of the court was Spider-Man. In her shock, she forgot her purpose for seeking out the vigilante and almost turned back to get the police’s help, but remembered how callous they were towards his condition. Headlines flashed in her head of how the police were particularly interested in unmasking Spidey.

She tip-toed closer to the superhuman vigilante, movements slow and purposeful in case Spidey was aware of his surroundings and decided to bolt.

He didn’t stir, and Francine caught a glimpse of the pool of blood around his body.

“Oh, _Christ_ ,” she tried to stave off panic, “Oh _shit_ you _are_ hurt.” She knelt down by his body, her hands ghosting over his form. His limbs were curled inwards much like a dead spider. Her heart caught in her throat until she saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

She fumbled to get her phone out of her windbreaker’s pocket, shaking fingers quickly calling for help.

 

* * *

 

 

Penny blinked into the bright screen of her phone, debating whether or not to even answer. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and picked up the call.

“Francie this better be-”

“ _Penny,_ thank god, so there was the Lizard that b-busted out of the Hesler building and Spider-Man showed up and was fighting it and-- and-- he _saved_ me I think but he got hurt and now I’m standing in the Messel courtyard and he’s--”

“Stop, okay, back up.” Penny pinched the bridge of her nose. “... _Spider-Man_?”

“ _Yes_ ! He’s hurt really, _really_ badly and I know you’re in the nursing program and I don’t know what to do!” Penelope heard shuffling on the other end of the line. “He won’t get up!”

This snapped her out of her last vestiges of sleep. “ _You’re with him_ ?! What about Code Cape, France!” Penny threw back her comforter, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Rule _fucking_ one: don’t go near a--!”

“ _I know_ ! Christ!” Ragged, panicked breaths came through the phone. “He’s just -- it looks _really_ bad Penny, can you just get down here?” Her friend’s voice wavered pleadingly. Begging for help.

Penny shuffled on a pink robe and a pair of bunny slippers. Francine was always over-empathetic towards anything that moved, Penny thought it was one of the many reasons she became a pre-vet, but she definitely was not one to lose her cool.

“Messel courtyard?” A confirming noise. “I’ll be there in five.”

 

* * *

 

Still in her pajamas, Penelope raced the last few yards to where Francine was, apparently, accompanying one of the most notorious of all New York’s capes. Two of her suitemates followed loosely behind, alerted to the situation after Penny began knocking things off shelves looking for her keys. Both didn’t seem particularly worried, and Penny reasoned they only agreed to run across campus for the spectacle of seeing a superhero up close.

In the distance, they could see the flashing of police lights, likely still cleaning up whatever mess Francine had described in a panic over the phone.

Taking the lead, Penny was the first to breach the clearing, where she spotted Francine. She was hunched over a prone Spider-Man, tightening her pink windbreaker around one of his calves. The spider hero let out a low moan at the action.

Francine met her stunned gaze, blue eyes wide in worry. Any last inkling that this must be a joke disappeared.

A low whistle echoed behind Penelope, “Wow, is he dead?”

Francine shook her head, her short hair hitting her face, “He’s torn to bits though. He needs medical help.” That much was obvious, Penny thought. Rushing closer to the pair she could see Francie’s hands smeared in blood, and a sizable pool of it around the vigilante. Her dark eyes snapped back to Francine’s, commanding her attention.

“I have a key to the nursing building’s training labs. We can treat him there.” It wasn’t far from where they were, and was likely empty at this time of night. “We’ll need to take him in the back way to avoid the police.”

She spun towards her suitemates, who both looked much more concerned than before, “Can you both help us carry him?” They nodded.

Tying back her long hair, the four students hoisted up the injured vigilante, taking care to avoid his slippery back and left leg. He was lighter than anticipated.

The feeling of being lifted must have woken up the man slightly, and the mechanical eyes on the mask opened to slits. The group froze in anticipation, hoping that he wouldn’t lash out at them as the papers had often described him of doing. A nervous suitemate adjusting their hold made the hero hiss slightly in pain, and his mask eyes whirred shut again.

A collective sigh of relief left the four, all thankful for not being kicked apart, and they began to carefully bustle him out of the darkened courtyard.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is appreciated! writing is not something ive done much outside of typical college papers and etc, so i'm trying my best haha.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weee this is out of my system! I was really smitten with the idea of Spidey being helped in a nursing school building or whatever haha.
> 
> also I shoved in as many niche marvel things as I could bear to. (i love she-hulk so, so much..*chef kiss*)

 

 

“You know, this could work out great for us,” Penelope’s male suitemate stated, his hold steady on Spider-Man’s left arm and shoulder. Shaking off the shock of manhandling a cape, it seemed that his mind started to stir with possibilities. A mischievous glint shone in his eye as they maneuvered themselves into the back entrance of the nursing building, careful to avoid bumping the injured hero in the doorway.

Francine adjusted her grip on his right leg. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, look! We have New York’s wallcrawler in our hands, unconscious! There are like, five different ways I can imagine us getting rich off this right now.”

They turned down a hallway, their hastily put on shoes and slippers squeaking on the waxed floors.

“What?” Penelope interjected, “Are you really thinking about extorting Spider-Man or something?”

“He’ll probably bust us apart before you have the chance to make threats, Drew,” Penny’s other roommate added, her attentions split between not aggravating the windbreaker tied around the worst of Spidey’s injuries and her suitemate. “I would like to make it through this night alive.”

Drew scrunched his shoulders up in defense. “Hey, we all have student debt, it was only a suggest-”

Penny hushed the group. “We’re not gonna do anything but _help_ the guy,” she bit back quietly as they approached the stairwell. “Labs are in the basement. Careful on the steps.”

 

* * *

 

 

After a minute of key-jangling, the group of four students and a stirring vigilante made it through the door of a nursing lab.

The room was split in two. On the end closest to the group, there were neat rows of hospital beds with all the dressings of a real medical practice, including curtains that could be withdrawn for privacy and practice dummies. The far end was littered with desks and a single lectern.

Francine could feel the faint movement of tendons and muscles tensing under her grip as Spidey was trying to shift in their hold.

“Uh,” The female suitemate started in a worried whisper, “I think he’s coming back to us.”

Spider-Man made a weak mewling noise as one of his shoulder supports left their place, rushing to clear a bed. Drew shifted his grip to hold Spidey under both armpits, resting his masked head against his chest.

Penny haphazardly removed one of the creepier dummies from a nearby cot, setting it against the wall.

“Put him here,” she said, flattening out the sheets. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.” They did as told, setting the spider-hero gently on the itchy fabric. Spider-Man’s hands twitched at his sides.

“Okay, okay” Penny gathered her bearings. Just act how you would if he was a dummy, she thought. A potentially dangerous, real, living-and-breathing dummy. _What a night_.

“Francie, you watch him while I go run and get a first aid kit.” Being pre-vet, she’s probably the best person to leave this whole operation to while shes out for a second. “There are some pain-killers in the lectern for when Dr. Hicks gets migraines, try to get some into him before we clean his wounds up.”

Francine opened her mouth to ask for more direction but Penny was gone, the door slamming behind her, leaving only the sound of slippers quickly slapping down the hall. The sudden noise made Spider-Man shift a little, his head lolled to one side and hands balled into weak fists.

The female suitemate produced the bottle of pain-killers to Francine, and both suitemates looked at her expectantly. Drew’s gaze drifted back over to the hero, the glint in his eye returning, “We need to take his mask off.”

As if he heard him, Spidey slightly tensed in the bed.

“No, no,” she shot down quickly. Taking off the mask would only make Spidey distrust them more, and with so little known about the vigilante, who’s to say to what extent the guy would go to protect his identity? “We can’t do that to him, not when he’s like this.”

“What about pulling it over his mouth?” the other suitemate offered, shaking the pill bottle in anticipation. Francine took a moment to consider before relenting and approached the head of the bed with her in tow.

The mask’s eyes were clicking open into thin lines and shutting again, like the man was struggling to wake up. She delicately ran her hands along his jawline and down his throat, feeling for the seam of the mask, before finally peeling it back to rest over his nose.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter’s no stranger to waking up in strange places. These include roofs, libraries, maybe a few times too many strapped to a chair dangling over a death trap, and that one instance where he woke up in an apologetic She-Hulk’s penthouse after she decided to hit his snooze button a little _too_ hard after a particularly bad joke.

But waking up with his mouth full of hands? That’s a new one.

Voices drifted into focus as two fingers holding something smooth were pressed against the inside of his cheek.

“You can’t just put it in his mouth! He has to swallow it!”

“I don’t want him to choke!”

The eyes on the mask snapped open. There were two people in his personal space, one of whom was partially behind him, her hands cupping his jawline and arguing with another girl as she struggled to put something on the back of his tongue.

Both recoiled in surprise at the sound of the mechanical lids snapping wide, the hands at his jaw and the intruding fingers retreated, leaving the object in his mouth.

He went to spit it out, but the girl behind him returned and clamped a hand over his mouth, putting his head in a loose headlock. “No, nonono, you have to swallow it!” She parted her fingers a little to press a bottle of water to his closed lips, trying to get him to drink. Water filtered uselessly down his exposed chin.

Spidey began to thrash, but as soon as his injured leg brushed up against the side of the bed he gasped in pain, allowing for a small mouthful of water to enter.

Peter felt fingers ghost around his throat, checking to see if he swallowed the object. Satisfied, the hand over his mouth disappeared, allowing Spider-Man to spring upright in bed, coughing.

“We could have gone about that in a different way, Francine…”

The abrupt change in position made Peter’s head swim, but the itchy blankets and overpowering sanitizer smell made it apparent: he was in a hospital. Hospitals meant people with long needles, meant police involvement, meant _unmasking_. That is, if all those things hadn’t happened already.

Overcome with panic, the spider-hero tumbled out of the cot away from the two people that invaded his bubble. He hit the ground hard on his side, earning a few surprised and worried shouts from the young women on the other side of the bed. He scooted towards the wall behind him, scaling it to its corner, letting his bleeding leg hang loosely in the spot.

There were no windows, just hospital beds (They put him in a public wing and not a private room?) and a door that was blocked by a young man, wide-eyed and startled with the sudden commotion. They weren’t going to let him leave.

 

He was trapped.

 

Suddenly, the man cried out as the door opened into him. A new woman rushed through carrying a red box with towels stacked on top. She gave a passing ‘sorry’ and made it halfway to the bed Peter had scrambled out of before seeing it was empty.

“Wha-” She spun to where the three were staring up at his half-masked form braced in the room’s corner, then back to the man at the door, her ponytail whipping around her face. Her brows were furrowed. “Did Drew fucking--”

The man put up his hands defensively. “No!” Ponytail didn’t look convinced. “Francie gave him the painkiller and he woke up! That’s all!”

While a squabble ensued, Peter got a clearer look around the “hospital” and its occupants. There were plaques with how-to guides on them below his perch, a place to put backpacks in the far corner, and there was no soft beeping of machinery.

Also, the nurses didn’t look anything like nurses. Was that one wearing slippers and a bathrobe?

He cleared his throat. The arguing stopped and everyone snapped to his attention in cautious anticipation. He shifted in place, still mindful of the throbbing pain in his…wrapped leg?

“Uhm…” He should ask where he is, who they are, how he got here. “Are you...wearing bunny slippers?”

The woman in the ponytail comically looked down at her fluffy shoes and back up at him from behind her stack of supplies. She let out a short, breathy laugh. “We kinda came here on, uh, short notice.”

Spidey anxiously fidgeted in place. Come on Peter, ask important questions.

He weakly lifted a finger towards the girl who had forced him to drink and swallow the pill. “I think she tried to waterboard me.”

Ponytail-girl looked incredulous, slowly turning her head towards the person in question.

She was met with a meek shrug. “I gave him the painkiller…like how they showed in pre-vet...”

Penny hung her head in defeat. She placed the towels beside the empty bed and cracked open the first aid kit.

“Sorry if they scared you.” Her dark eyes met the pearl-white ones of his mask. “Francie called me in the middle of the night, said she found you collapsed half-dead on Messel courtyard.” She carefully approached the vigilante huddled on the ceiling, towel in hand. “We brought you to the College of Nursing building on the ESU campus to help you. If you’ll let us.”

“So, no one’s unmasked me?” The two women behind the ponytail lady furiously shook their heads in the negative. “Not even a little bit? I have a Twitter, you know, I’ll see if it starts to trend--”

“You’re _okay_ here, Spider-Man. What good would it get a few college students anyways?”

Spidey huffed, “I can think of at least five different ways you could profit off of this.”

The man leaning on the door scoffed, earning himself a glare from the women in the room.

Penelope tried again. “I’m a nursing student, will you let me--,” she gestured to the rest of the group, ”--us, help you?”

Spider-Man continued to fidget, his windbreaker-wrapped leg dripped blood pitifully on the floor. His white lenses met each of the occupants gazes one-by-one.

Carefully, he slid himself towards the ground, bracing a hand on the wall to avoid falling over. Penelope eased forwards, hands up so as to not spook the skittish hero, and let Spidey use her shoulder to prop himself up. Her fuzzy bathrobe sleeve rubbed up uncomfortably against his back wound.

“Could I get, uh, more of that painkiller?”

 

* * *

 

 

After working both the pink windbreaker and costume boot off, Penelope began to clean Spidey’s leg. He was sitting up with his bleeding limb stretched out on the hospital bed, the other curled up tightly against his chest.

“Yikes,” Spidey hissed, taking in the deep gashes and puncture wounds, “Needed to get my rabies vaccine anyways.” He jumped a little as the girl who waterboarded him --Francie he was told-- appeared at his side with a damp towel.

“Could you lift your shirt?” She asked, maybe just a little starstruck. “Just going to clean the cuts on your back.” The hero obliged, rolling the spandex to his upper chest.

They stayed like that in uncomfortable silence for some time, dabbing and picking debris out of the worst of the gashes. Soft ‘ow’s escaped from the vigilante every now and then. Spidey’s head swiveled back and forth around the room, his lenses meeting stares and checking where everyone was constantly.

 

“Thanks for being there,” Francine started, trying to ease the tension. “That big lizard was going to fall on me and that policeman of you hadn’t done anything.”

Spidey’s mask lenses widened.

“Oh, that was _you_ who was frozen in place!” Penelope chuckled and Francie’s face went beet-red. She rubbed the damp towel into his flesh a little too roughly, making the hero yelp slightly. “...Is that why you decided to help me? Because I pushed you out of the way?”

“Kinda, I guess. I heard you scream when the Lizard bit you, and the police didn’t seem worried about your health. Said that if you could swing away you were fine.”

Spidey nodded thoughtfully. Certainly sounded like something they’d say.

“ _Were_ you going to be fine?” Penelope interjected, setting out suture supplies.

“Hmm?”

“If Francine hadn’t found you, would you have been swinging around Manhattan tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She studied his masked face. “I’ve had worse! Believe it or not.”

She dropped her gaze back to his leg. “And what did you do when it _was_ worse? Don’t you hero-types have a team for this kinda thing?”

The female suitemate piped up from her position on a neighboring bed. “Yeah, aren’t you a part of the Avengers? Heard Stark owns most of the medical practices in New York.”

Francine momentarily stopped placing bandages on his back. “I thought you were part of the Defenders?”

Peter squirmed under the mention of his allies. He was _not_ about to go telling the world that he gets kicked off as many teams as he joins. “Well, y’know…” he shrugged. “I don’t have... health insurance...?”

The students in the room snickered. Spidey seemed to relax a little.

Penelope finished applying antiseptic. “I’m going to start suturing the worst of the bitemark, do you need more pain meds?”

Spider-Man shook his head. “...Have you done this before?” He felt like he was talking to Daredevil’s doctor friend in the way that she’s taken control of this whole operation.

“Sure, I’ve been doing job shadowing for the past year at the ESU Medical Center, although-”

“No, I mean, helping a cape.” Peter grimaced as he felt the dull tug of the needle in his calf. “Especially me, I know that the Daily Bugle is fairly popular with most students, and the school paper isn't exactly the nicest to your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

The man leaning on the door perked up from where he was nodding off, “You read the school paper?” Spidey ignored his question.

Not looking up from her work, she answered, “Nah, the closest I’d ever come to a cape was at a Dazzler concert at Madison Square.” She moved onto another gash. “Drew over there, though, said that he saw Hellcat in a Subway on Yancy street once.”

“As for why _you_ , no matter our feelings around how you go about stopping crime, you did save a friend of mine, and I think that warrants at least _some_ TLC.”

“And getting to talk to Spider-Man in the basement of your college in the dead of night is _way_ cooler than watching Hellcat eat a tuna sandwich.” Drew added.

“Oh.” Spidey fiddled with his gloved fingers. “Okay.”

Francie reached for more bandage tape that laid near Penny’s station, and Peter spied the handprint-shaped bruises on her forearms.

“AH!” He exclaimed, startling all the students in the room. “Did I…?! Does that hurt?” Peter reached out to examine Francine’s arms, but she flinched away.

“It’s fine! You were scared, I should have known better not to put a superhero in a headlock!”

The huge pearly lenses on Spider-Man’s mask somehow made him look even more guilty.

“ _It’s okay_ , really!” She taped the last of the gauze securely to the hero’s back. “A little bruise is much better than being crushed by a charging dinosaur.” She patted him on the head comfortingly, much like a pre-vet would to a good patient Penelope amusingly noted.

Spidey went back to fiddling with the hem of his gloves.

“There, finished.” Penny put the needle and medical thread back in the red box. “Gonna wrap it up now, if that’s…?”

“N-No, that’s fine,” Peter swung his now stitched-up leg over the side of the bed. “It’s probably late and I’ve kept you all up and you all probably have early classes to get to tomorrow morning so I’m sorry if I scared you or --” He stole a quick glance at Francine, “--hurt you, I’ll just take more of those pills and swing outta here--”

Spidey shakily stood up. “Phone home and all that, uh, stuff.”

Penelope placed her hands on his shoulders, “Sit--” and moved him back down to the bed. “--down.”

“You’re in no shape to walk, and I won’t have you busting open those stitches trying.”

Spidey groaned. “At least tell me what time it is?” Peter couldn’t be late for another morning class, he’s already used up all his excuses.

“2:34,” the female suitemate yawned from the next bed over. Both she and the young man were nodding off, the latter already asleep against the door with his head resting on his folded arms and knees.

Spidey flopped back onto the bed, letting the ponytail girl wrap his leg in gauze. It's late, but not _late-_ late, he thought.

“An hour, I’ll rest for _an hour_.” He pointed a finger in the air to emphasize the point. “But it's your funeral if my _big, hairy, gross_ _spider-mom_ starts skittering around campus trying to find me ‘cause I missed curfew.”

“That’s not true.”

Spider-Man comically shrugged, “You don’t know that.”

 

* * *

 

 

He definitely slept more than an hour. Peter woke up to the soft breathing noises of the students that had carried him here scattered in different beds, some sharing the space with a creepy dummy. He carefully slipped out of his own cot, shaking off the blood-stained pink robe that was laid across his body. The ponytail-girl must have laid it on him as a blanket at some point.

His leg felt sore under the delicate, bright white bandages, but it was light years better than the teeth-grinding feeling of torn skin and ripped flesh that consumed him hours ago.

Deciding that he shouldn’t bother the people who had helped him any more than he had, he collected his boot and slipped out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

He could hear soft voices from down the hall, hopefully belonging to those professors who thought six in the morning was a reasonable time to have office hours.

Peter stuck to the ceilings as he made for the exit, his spider-sense tingling the whole way.

Pushing a side-entrance door halfway open he paused, “You’re following me.”

Ponytail-girl stepped out from behind the corner. “You left.”

He pointed a thumb outside, where purple-pink light was filtering through the trees. “I...have things to do…and I really don’t want to be around when people try to sue me for bleeding on everything...”

She produced a piece of paper and held it out for him.

An autograph? Peter raised his hands, “I don’t have a pen on me, we could take a selfie though-”

“It’s my contact info, dumbass.” She forced the slip into his palm, closing his fist around it.

“I’m a taken spider, miss.” A lie, he has commitment issues.

“God, just -- zip it.” She ran a hand down her face. “It has both mine and Francie’s phone number on it, and my dorm address. Just in case you’re ever stuck on campus again.”

Peter stared at the paper balled in his hand.

“You never said what happened during those times that were _worse_ than being a glorified chew toy, but I think we all got the feeling that you need more people in your corner. So,” she suddenly seemed bashful, crossing her arms around herself, “There you go. Code Cape be damned, I guess.”

Spidey smiled brightly under his mask.

“Code Cape be damned,” he agreed. “Thanks. Thanks for everything, miss..?”

“Penelope Marsh.”

Paper in hand, Spidey nodded politely and slipped through the door. He jumped to the brick face of the Nursing building, peering down at Penny who followed him outside.

“Thanks for everything, Penelope. Tell the others I said so as well.”

He swung away, the colors of his red and blue suit meshing with the purple of the dawn.

 

* * *

 

 

After some awkward and frustrating conversations with lab assistants and maintenance about _why_ there was a blood trail in the hallway, _why_ the practice labs were splattered floor to wall in blood, and _why_ four students were found stumbling around in the early morning hours with varying degrees of the substance _covering their bodies_ , it seemed the administration finally decided to drop the investigation.

That didn't stop the school paper decrying “Spider-Man frightens four ESU students into preforming crude surgery on him”, and the ensuing rumor mill even goaded the Bugle into unleashing a few photographers and reporters on campus.

Penelope now realized that a lot of the stories she heard circulating about the "spider-menace" tearing up roads and pushing people around were likely sensationalized. The guy nearly broke down when he saw that he bruised Francine for Christ’s sake! 

It wouldn’t be until a week later that the buzz would die down. New scandals emerged concerning Spidey or other New York underdogs, and the endless questions from fellow students and school reporters shifted focus to other topics. Penny hoped that she had finally escaped the rumor mill.

 

That is, until she returned to her dormitory’s lobby one night to a stunned student managing the desk. Before she could get in the elevator, the desk clerk waved her down.

“Penny, I’m not sure what to make of this.” He pushed a stack of goodies across the marble counter to her. “He just waltzed in and left these. Are you dating him or something?”

It was a fluffy robe, a new, _Spider-Man_ themed robe! The hero's mask peppered the soft blue fabric. Under it sat a saran-wrapped plate of cookies with a scribbled note attached to it. Grinning and hugging her soft gift tightly, she began to read.

 

_Penelope + Friends!_

_Here’s a new bathrobe bc I got blood on the other one!_

_(I didnt have enough money for a new windbreaker, tell whoever owned it Im sorry!!)_

_Cookies are chocolate chip!!_

_\- Spidey_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated!


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